


The Crane and the Cabaret

by Snapperoni



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alcohol, Drunken Flirting, Gen, Mostly Platonic, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Questionably romantic at the end, or at least an attempt at flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27437146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snapperoni/pseuds/Snapperoni
Summary: When Yamcha asks for help, Tien doesn't have much of a reason to deny him assistance. But when you learn that your gynophobic friend wants to pursue a career in being a professional flirt and entertainer, you already know a long night's ahead of you.
Relationships: Tenshinhan/Yamcha (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	The Crane and the Cabaret

White wooden floorboards creaked beneath Tien’s shoes as he climbed the remaining flight of stairs to Yamcha’s apartment floor. A week beforehand whilst they were wrapping up farm work for the day, Yamcha had sheepishly invited Tien to his place. For what reason he didn’t really specify- he only revealed he needed some kind of help.

Despite the vagueness of it all it never hurt to leave the mountains every now and then, and if it meant helping a friend like Yamcha out then Tien couldn’t find any valid reason to turn him down. That was why he found himself in front of the relatively-pristine door to Yamcha’s fourth-floor apartment once he dismissed classes for the day.

Rapping his knuckles against the door, Tien waited patiently outside, neatly keeping his hands behind his back as he mindlessly glanced around the rather depressing, compact hallway. It wasn’t long until he could distinctly hear Yamcha muttering behind the door coupled with a few concerning clatters, but nonetheless seconds later the front door was thrown to reveal a considerably well-kempt Yamcha.

Not only was seeing Yamcha’s hair tied back in a neat ponytail the first thing that surprised Tien, but he was also dressed in a dapper black suit, the jacket left open to fully expose a white dress shirt which had been tastefully left unbuttoned at the collar. To nearly complete the look, a slim silver-chain necklace was found hanging comfortably around his neck, not to mention the agarwood smell of his cologne. Had Yamcha been wearing any dress shoes instead of standing in the doorway in black socks, Tien would have assumed Yamcha was about to go take him to some elaborate venue. If that were the case, it would have been preferable if Yamcha told him ahead of time so he wouldn’t have to go in his changshan.

“Well? What do we think?” As Yamcha stepped backwards and outstretched his arms to offer a better look of the outfit, Tien shuffled inside, offering him a curious look as he toed off his boots.

“Elaborate. What’s all of this for, anyway?”

Returning Tien’s question with a satisfied chuckle, Yamcha gave himself a quick once over before opening the door to his bedroom. “I’ll explain in a sec, just get in. I need to go grab some things real quick.”

Tien was already here- coming out all the way to the city would’ve been a major waste of time if he didn’t at least get an explanation and see things through. Without much opposition other than a cocked brow, he made way inside of the room. Trying to ignore the rather disheveled and brittle appearance of the walls, he found a small table and chair beside the window and took a seat.

Amidst admiring Yamcha’s rather peculiar bedroom, more specifically the bright singular fuchsia tulip set before him in the otherwise dull room, swift knocks on the door alerted Tien back to the owner of the room. “I’m back. You didn’t miss me while I was gone, right?” Striding across his room, Yamcha placed a golden bottle and two regular glasses on the TV cabinet parallel to his bed before standing with applaudable posture in front of Tien’s table.

Eyeing both the bottle and Yamcha, Tien could only conjure a confused expression, his brows furrowed and his third eye drooping with exhaustion. “...Alright, I still don’t know what’s going on. You invited me over on a Friday night all dressed up, and now I’m in your bedroom with a bottle of champagne. Am I missing something?”

Such an observation caused the pigment in Yamcha’s cheeks to redden, losing his immaculate form to slouch and put his hands up defensively. “Okay so it looks a little weird. But I swear this is necessary.” Regaining his composure, he took a deep breath before gaining a serious look. “I’ve thought about it for a while and I mean, sure baseball’s great and all but I can’t keep doing it forever. I mean, I’m almost fifty! They’re not going to let me keep playing forever.”

“So your next move is…?”

“To be a professional host! After all, these good looks aren’t going anywhere anytime soon.”

A __host?__ He wasn’t too privy on the nightlife scene, but Tien was absolutely certain that __women__ were typically the target audience of hosts, not to mention that Yamcha seemed a little too old for the position, ironically. More importantly, why was __he__ here? Tien didn’t exactly fit the demographic for host clubs, neither in sex or personality. “Well that’s great and all but how am I supposed to help? Bulma or Chi-Chi seem to be much better people for this kind of thing.”

Yamcha chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, pursing his lips before coming up with an answer. “They’re always pretty busy… Plus I don’t want Goku or Vegeta getting the wrong idea.”

“Then what about Launch? She stopped by earlier this week- I could’ve asked her to come over for you.”

At the suggestion, Yamcha notably shivered, beginning to twiddle his fingers and avert his eyes. “Well, you know... What if she sneezed? It’s nothing against __her-__ I just didn’t want her other self to get confused when she’s suddenly in my apartment.” The explanation seemed reasonable enough, yet his demeanor and nervous laughter hinted that Yamcha was genuinely afraid of Launch opposed to wanting to look out for her- whether that fear spurred from her blonde counterpart’s volatility or her gender wasn’t entirely clear, perhaps it was a mixture of both.

“And to avoid all of that, you decided I was your best choice.” The sincere, earnest nod accompanied by Yamcha’s confident smile almost made Tien bury his head in his hands, but he was nonetheless- if not a bit hesitant- supportive of his friend’s endeavours. “Okay, fine. What do I have to do?”

“Awesome! All you have to do is uh… act like a girl looking for a good time? Oh, but not _too_ much of a good time- we’re not allowed to do anything crazy during club hours.” After careful consideration, Yamcha tapped his chin and waved the air as if to dismiss his previous statement. “You know what? Sit on the bed and I’ll come over.”

Repressing a sigh, Tien stood up and transferred to the bed. There was no chance in hell this was going to be effective at all; last time he checked, Yamcha’s whole issue was women, not having etiquette and being sociable, and roleplaying with a friend certainly had a whole different vibe from being with a stranger.

Silence began to flood the room as neither man moved or spoke. ”...Yamcha, you there?”

Yamcha seemed to be dozing off until Tien got his attention, visibly straightening up upon hearing his name. ”Yeah, yeah. I just- geez, approaching girls is one thing but how the hell am I supposed to flirt with someone like you?”

He knew Yamcha wasn’t implying anything negative, rather that he had little experience in the flirting department whether it was with a man or a woman- especially with that of a person as stoic and intimidating as Tien.

”We’re __acting__ right? Then __act__ like I’m a girl.”

Doing a quick look over of Tien, Yamcha tilted his head skeptically. ”I don’t think that’s going to work…”

”Well we’re not going to stand around all night doing nothing: get over here.” While Tien had already left the dojo grounds for the day, having to order Yamcha around did well to remind him of his own difficult students. Despite the strange comparison, if it got Yamcha moving then he was fine having it in mind.

A hum was Yamcha’s response as he patted his cheeks before making his way to sit next to Tien, finally allowing the odd practice session to begin. Despite the countless occasions where they had been suffocatingly close together, sitting in a quiet, peaceful setting had a significantly different feeling to it. It was calming- but it was almost inexplicably uncomfortable.

Sufficient time passed and Yamcha mustered the courage to say something. “...So, uh. How’s it goin’... good lookin’?”

This time, Tien failed to suppress his exasperation as he brought a hand up to rub at his two eyes, the third glaring at Yamcha disapprovingly. “Is that really the best you could think of?”

“Hey, it’s not as easy as it looks! If you think you can do any better then why don’t you try!?”

“I’m not going to do that.” Tien let his hand drop as he refocused on Yamcha’s budding scowl. “Calm down and try again. Remember: __I’m__ just a customer, and __you’re__ just doing your job.”

“Right. Calm down, just doin’ my job...” And swiftly, Yamcha was reminded why he was never able to hold such a position, for all he managed to do was continue to awkwardly stare at Tien, his hands folded in his lap. “Okay, actually? Give me a sec-”

Abandoning his seat, Yamcha made quick strides to the bottle left sitting on the cabinet, pouring a glass before downing its contents. With a slight grimace, Yamcha began to pour another glass. “I didn’t even plan on actually opening this. I just wanted to set the stage a little.” He let out a dry chortle as he finished his second glass, exhaling a breath of relief before walking back to his spot with a slight bounce in his step.

Tien could only look at Yamcha with mild doubt. If he couldn’t do this sober, then he was going to have difficulty dealing with the beginning of his shift. Though some progress was better than nothing, evidently. “You ready now?”

“I will be soon enough. Hopefully.”

“Alright, then let’s try again.” Yamcha considered his ability to handle drinks pretty well, although he hadn’t accounted for the potency of the brand he purchased. Furthermore, the plan wasn’t to get utterly wasted- just enough where he’d feel his tongue loosen up a bit. Expecting the effect to take time to occur, he took the opportunity to really study Tien’s features, trying to find any material he could work with. Soon enough, Yamcha quickly began to realize why anyone would ever refer to alcohol as “liquid courage.”

“You’ve got real nice eyes, did you know that?”

The sudden conclusion caused Tien to give him a questioning look, his head cocked as if to reaffirm what Yamcha just said. “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean it. They’ve got a good shape to them and they just-“ Yamcha propped his leg on the bed, pressing his arm against his knee to support his head as he continued to admire Tien’s face. “They’re really nice. I feel like I’m looking into a ditch but it’s not even a bad ditch. Maybe a little scary at first but nice to look at after a while.”

There was plenty to take in once Yamcha finished his prattling, mostly because none of it was actually coherent. Though there was at least one thing Tien was able to take away from it all: “Ditches are a good thing to you?”

“It depends. Just looking at one? Rad. But falling into one? That’s never really fun.” Yamcha looked to his cracked ceiling as he continued his ramble. “Though it could be fun if you slid down it… Yeah, see- it _does_ make sense!”

 _“ _Nothing__ you said made sense.” Even if he sounded skeptical, Tien felt the corners of his mouth curve upward.

“No, listen: if we just _so happen_ to make eye contact, that’s falling into a ditch. But if __I willingly__ look into your eyes?“ Yamcha emphasized this by pointing at both of their faces. “Then it’s like jumping in and sliding down! I know what to expect already and I know that if I do it it’s going to be a fun time.”

Discerning whether the alcohol began to seep into his brain or if he finally found a good starting point was difficult. But at least they were having a conversation- and Tien would be lying if he thought it wasn’t the slightest bit entertaining.

“Just so we’re clear, looking at me is just as fun as jumping in a ditch?”

“Well not at __you__ as a __whole_ ,_ just your eyes.” Taking a second to acknowledge his words, Yamcha shook his head against the hand that held his head up. “When I say that it sounds like I’m saying the rest of you is lame to look at. That’s not the case though!” Picking his head up to better look at Tien, Yamcha took his other hand and slapped it onto Tien’s shoulder. “You also got a pretty sick bod, bud.”

The assertion coupled with Yamcha’s earnest, tipsy movements earned a wider grin Tien attempted to cover with his hand, using his other to bat Yamcha’s own invasive appendage. “Maybe we should take a break.”

“No, no. I’m on a roll now. And you can’t _even_ say that- I _refuse_ to let you say that! For a good, what- __majority__ of my life I’ve only ever seen you shirtless. I have every right to say your body’s great. Because it is.” Yamcha leapt off his bed, gesturing fully to Tien’s existence. “Especially lately; you were big as hell when we first met how did you get even bigger!?”

Whether the flush of red that developed on Tien’s cheeks came from embarrassment at Yamcha’s tomfoolery or his words, he wasn’t entirely sure. He was certain, however, that he wanted Yamcha to calm down. “Okay, we get it. I look nice. Don’t you have to do other things besides flatter someone?”

Yamcha’s browns raised at the question. “Oh, right. Uh…” Flopping down back onto the bed, Yamcha covered his face with his hands as he began to think. When he came to think of something, he let an eye peek behind his fingers. “You like karaoke?”

“I don’t sing.”

“Right but do you wanna hear __me__ sing though?” Granting little time to actually answer, Yamcha evacuated the bed to go and poke around in his cabinet, swiftly producing the TV remote. Having the object in hand, he smirked and gave it a playful twirl, leaning against the bed frame as he looked up at Tien through stray hairs that broke free from his ponytail. He brought the remote to his mouth, treating it as a microphone. “Got any favorite songs?”

Fright and bemusement muddied Tien’s emotions, but he could only shake his head with a relaxed smile.“Can’t say I do, no.”

A snap up in posture and a wink was the extent of Yamcha’s warning before he made his way across the bed frame, only instead of sitting back on the bed he opted to lay across Tien’s lap. “I got one in mind already, don’t worry.” As if to reassure him, Yamcha patted Tien’s cheek before allowing the arm to hang around the other’s neck.

Unexpectedly, the sounds that soon encompassed the room weren’t that of a drunkard’s ballad- it was no symphony either, but against all odds Yamcha’s singing wasn’t as abysmal as expected. Tien hardly paid attention, truthfully. Instead, he could only fixate on the weight rocking on his lap as Yamcha swayed to the tune of the slow-paced melody as he eventually pressed his cheek against the crook of Tien’s neck. Having Yamcha so close to him, Tien was able to pick up on the pleasant plum blossom smell mixed with the agarwood of his cologne.

When Tien was made aware that he would be helping Yamcha revive his hosting career, he expected the unexpected- something utterly bizarre and far from his own version of normalcy. But perhaps tonight was a lesson in leaving those boundaries; as Tien steadily guided his arm to hold Yamcha against him, sharing the remote with his other hand and attempting to hum along, he began to understand something. Hell, the circumstances they found themselves in were utterly ridiculous- idiotic, even. But perhaps that was the appeal of watching your friend slowly lose his sobriety in an attempt to make performing easier, cradling him in your arms as the song he was so excited to sing began to end.

Even with the last of the lyrics already sung, neither Tien or Yamcha bothered to move, mutually finding unexpected comfort in each other as they allowed silence to gradually return to the room.

Despite the fact that he wasn’t even certain what the song they performed together was, Tien found the tune infectious and continued to mumble it to himself. Meanwhile, Yamcha shifted against his makeshift chair, adjusting himself to lean comfortably against Tien’s chest. “Hey.”

Tien stopped humming before looking down at his now-beaming host. “You feeling better? Think you can do this sober?”

Waving at the air dismissively, Yamcha instead prodded Tien’s sternum. “How are _you_ feeling, huh? Did’ja think I was a good host?” Attempting to sway his answer, Yamcha batted his eyes as he pressed his cheek against Tien’s shoulder.

Technically, yes; the purpose of the host was to entertain the customer and give them a good time, and Yamcha proved he was definitely capable of doing that. However, achieving that required inebriation, and if Tien wanted to help him be successful in his career, Yamcha would have to learn to overcome his anxieties while sober.

“You were sloppy at first, but you did pull through- after a few drinks, anyways.” Easing Yamcha off of him, Tien began to make his way out of the room, looking over his shoulder before completely leaving. “If you’re going to get any better, we’re going to have to try again.”

Pouting, Yamcha leaned on the bed frame with a sigh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. When y’think you’re gonna be free again?”

Not receiving an immediate response, Yamcha presumed Tien had already left- which meant he would have to spend the rest of the night alone with the remnants of his buzz and he would have to travel to Tien’s village again at some point to ask about another practice session. But the echo from the left side of the house as well as the sound of the running sink contradicted Yamcha’s assumption.

“You didn’t drink that much, your head should clear up soon.” Entering the room once more, Tien handed a befuddled Yamcha a glass of water. “Unless you want to do this some other time, that is.”

Looking between the glass and Tien, Yamcha let his mind slowly assemble the clear implications before drinking from the cup. “If it isn’t too much trouble…”

“Not at all,” Tien reassured, retaking a seat next to Yamcha before giving him a thoughtful look. Coming to a silent conclusion, Tien scooted closer, gesturing Yamcha to bring himself closer to him.

“Wha’sha doin’?” Now closer, Tien delicately held Yamcha’s chin in his hands, inspecting him more closely before reaching behind his head to undo his ponytail. With Yamcha’s hair free, Tien gave it an affectionate tussle.

“I like your hair more when it’s down.” Bluntly confessing that fact, Tien snatched the remote from Yamcha’s loosened hand, flicking on the television as he began to dully channel surf. Words failed to coherently form upon Yamcha’s lips, instead sputtering nonsense. Incapable of finding any sort of response, he decided to just join Tien instead as they blankly watched the television, Yamcha resting his dizzying head against his shoulder.


End file.
